


Off Menu

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, fuck the finale, our favourite witnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie waitresses at a diner while building her business with her sister. Her life is busy enough without having her heart dragged into turmoil by a hot stranger with a crisp British accent, but there's something about him that holds her captive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Menu

**Author's Note:**

> So.... I just started writing this in my lunchbreak from a Tumblr prompt by @midoritonbo: "As smutty or fluffy as you like, just as long as it has a happy ending :) Thank you :)"

He always came in just before midnight, nursing coffee with a stack of papers, his long fingers holding a slim pen – fountain, no cheap Walmart biros for this dude – the nib ghosting over the surface of a thick leather notebook, his masculine writing loopy, assured.

 

Abbie watched him from behind the counter of the all night diner. His long hair was swept back into a queue, a few strands hanging loose to tease his stubbled jaw. Normally long hair on guys looked messy, lazy. It somehow suited him, as if he’d stepped from the page of a history book, or a scene of an Austen novel. The greatcoat – silver buttons marching down the sides like polished soldiers – hanging off the chair behind him didn’t hurt that image at all.

 

His features were starkly handsome – straight nose, azure eyes the shade of the sky on a cloudless day, cheekbones she could cut herself on.

 

And every night he came in and barely said two words to anyone. He just wrote whilst she refilled his coffee, and each time she did, he turned those brilliant blue eyes on her and thanked her softly, in a British accent as crisp as the first golden leaves appearing in the fall.

 

In short, he was the most interesting customer the all night diner, creatively named “Round the Clock.” Just off the highway, its main patrons were truckers and those at night shifts at Sleepy Hollow hospital half a mile away. It was far from Abbie’s dream job, but she needed something to keep her bills paid while she and her sister Jenny grew their home-based jewellery business. _The Sisters Mills,_ riffing on the Brothers Grimm, offered fairy-tale and mythical themed lockets, earrings and pendants.

 

Jenny was at the hospital right now, cleaning toilets. The sisters promised themselves each night before they sloped off to work – night shifts paid more – that it wouldn’t be long. They were plowing all their energies into their business, and some day soon it was going to pay off, and, she hoped, in a big way.

 

For now, she’d keep the hot Brit’s coffee cup filled.

 

Only he and another regular, Mickey, a trucker from down South, occupied the diner. Abbie’s colleague Zoe was on break. Abbie peered towards hot Brit’s table and saw that his mug hadn’t been touched in some time.

 

She moved over. “Refill?”

 

His hand paused and she tried not to look too hard at what he was writing. He looked up and those startlingly blue eyes met hers. “Thank you kindly.”

 

His archaic way of speaking charmed her and she poured, watching as the black liquid sloshed into the cup. When she’d finished, he wrapped his hand around it. He had such broad palms; long fingers. Elegant, pianist’s hands. How would they feel on her skin?

 

“Can’t tempt you with anything to eat? Special’s raspberry pie.”

 

His eyes darted over her frame for a hot second – nothing that felt lecherous, but she was sure he’d just told her without words that she could tempt him with _something._ “I find I do hunger for…. Something.”

 

She put the coffee pot down on his table and reached for her order pad.

 

“Your company, perhaps? A moment of your time.”

 

Abbie hesitated, searching his blue gaze. He didn’t seem like a pervert, or too weird. You could never tell, though. She glanced around.

 

“I assure you, harming your person has not once occurred to me. I’d simply like to speak with you,” he said softly. His voice had taken on a low timbre that reverberated somewhere private inside her.

 

“Sorry, we don’t normally take off menu orders,” she replied, trying for joking. She had things to focus on that didn’t include an oddball Brit, no matter how much he intrigued her. Besides. How did he know he wasn’t just hitting on her for sport? Or out of boredom? She’d go on break and see if he hit on Zoe when the other woman came by to refill his coffee or offer food.

 

If he did, she’d know he was a rotten egg. And if he didn’t – well, she’d have to hope that he asked her to speak with him again.

 

 _It doesn’t matter,_ she chided herself. _You’re not looking for romance right now._ Not after Danny had blown in and out of her life like a typhoon, dealing just as much damage and leaving a bigger aftermath.

 

“Perhaps you would keep me informed if you ever…. Amend your policy.”

 

She picked the pot up again. “Sure.”

 

From over at the counter Zoe appeared, signalling that it was Abbie’s break time. She knew Hot Brit would be gone by the time she got back. “I’m on break now. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 

“I shall be here.” His gaze held hers for another blistering second before he went back to whatever he was writing. Her curiosity was seriously piqued by the words on the pages of the thick leather journal, but she knew better than to poke her nose into a stranger’s business. It hadn’t gotten her anywhere good so far.

 

She walked away, trying not to look back, and for the most part, succeeding.

 

Only before she left for the night did she peek into the diner. Zoe was making her way over to Hot Brit, asking if he wanted a coffee refill. He replied in the affirmative, and she poured into his cup.

 

A third and fourth customer had joined Hot Brit and the trucker in the diner, poring over menus.

 

The tall Brit thanked Abbie’s colleague with a smile, and then – nothing. He went back to his work. Abbie didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath until it came out in a heady whoosh.

 

A few minutes later, she crossed the car park towards her small, old car. The poor thing was mostly running on fumes right now, but the sorry little excuse for a vehicle had belonged to her late mother, and Abbie couldn’t bear to scrap it.

 

She’d nearly reached her car, keys in hand, when a creeping feeling stole over the sensitive place on the back of her neck. And she knew without a doubt that she was not alone.


End file.
